


I Know Who I Want to Take Me Home

by literaryoblivion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Being Lost, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, Librarian Stiles, M/M, Police, Police Officer Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1252021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles had told Scott that it was cool if he took Kira home, leaving Stiles behind, it was because he thought it’d be a piece of cake catching a cab or the bus, or maybe, Stiles toyed with the idea of getting a ride home with someone else and also possibly a phone number from that person. Now, though, it’s pushing three in the morning, and he’s an hour outside of town with no busses or cabs in sight.</p><p>So he does what he's dad taught him to do when he was four and he found himself lost and alone.</p><p>He calls the police.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know Who I Want to Take Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> Because [this post](http://heathyr.tumblr.com/post/77526691982) came across my dash several times with people wanting a Sterek fic, and I am a people pleaser (and am a sucker for Cop!Derek). Also forgive the Semisonic lyric for the title; I just really like that song.

When Stiles had told Scott that it was cool if he took Kira home, leaving Stiles behind, it was because he thought it’d be a piece of cake catching a cab or the bus, or maybe, Stiles toyed with the idea of getting a ride home with someone else and also possibly a phone number from that person. He probably held on to that hope for too long when he purposefully stayed longer at the club when he insisted to Scott that he would be fine and that he should go have fun with Kira and be _safe_. Scott had blushed and ducked his head, and when Kira had come back from the bathroom, ready to leave, Stiles had given him a wink and a thumb’s up because he’s an awesome best friend.

Now, though, it’s pushing three in the morning, and he’s an hour outside of town. Normally he wouldn’t care, but he’s living at home, and he knows for a fact that his Dad will be off his shift in an hour (maybe two if Stiles is lucky). Even though Stiles is a grown-ass adult in the eyes of the state (and has been for a whole year and some change), his dad expects him to follow certain rules while he’s still living under his roof. Rules like he still has to do the dishes, take out the trash, clean his bathroom, and be home at a reasonable hour, preferably before the sun comes up the next day.

Which, he would totally follow if he weren’t stranded in an unfamiliar town without a cab in sight. He remembered seeing a bus stop down the street when Scott and driven them to the club, so he walks to where he thinks he saw it. He’s not completely drunk now, his last drink was right after Scott had left around midnight, and he had been too busy dancing and trying to flirt with a few guys to go get another. Also money. Drinks are fucking expensive and unless someone else is buying them for him, he’s not ponying up the dough for them for himself.

Fortunately, the bus stop has a schedule of when the next bus comes.

Unfortunately, the next bus won’t be coming for another 3 and a half hours.

“Fuck,” Stiles groans. Most everyone from the club (that is now closed) has dispersed, and any hope Stiles had of looking pathetic enough for a fellow club patron to feel sorry enough for him to offer a ride vanishes. He is alone.

Even though he is a grown-ass adult, he starts to panic because he is completely alone at 3 in the morning in a strange town with no way to get home. His mind races and thinks of all the worse possible scenarios because isn’t this how horror movies and _Supernatural_ episodes start? He is like prime material for a hardened criminal to appear out of the shadows and slit his throat, or some horny thug to attack him in the alley. He is just _barely_ an adult, okay, he _needs to live_. He has so much of his life ahead of him still! He still hasn’t been to Europe or the Grand Canyon, or had a relationship that’s lasted longer than two weeks! Or really any relationship, or had really, great, mind-blowing sex. He is not allowed to die before he’s passed out from pure bliss because of a phenomenal orgasm achieved because of another person, okay? It is not allowed.

He stops before he can throw himself into a full-blown meltdown because he can figure this out. He is smart; he’s _got_ this. But he doesn’t know whether he should try to walk to somewhere that might be a little more busy, a street that a cab might drive down that he could flag, or wait for the bus. He can’t call Scott, because that’s so rude especially after Stiles had encouraged him to leave. Scott would feel so guilty, and he can’t have Scott feeling that way. He’s still holding out for some miracle to happen that will get him home before his dad gets there so he can pretend he was a good responsible adult that goes to bed at reasonable hours before they have to go to work the next day.

Shit. Work. He totally has to be at the library at 8 am to open because he stupidly agreed to take Erica’s shift, so she could celebrate Boyd’s birthday. Fuck.

Okay, he has to get home. He doesn’t want to, but Stiles is starting to think his only option is to call his dad, beg for forgiveness, and plead for him to come pick him up before something terrible happens to him. His dad would totally forgive him and rush over if he thought Stiles was in some kind of danger. That’s mean. He shouldn’t do that. He would feel guilty for forever for being such a horrible son. But what other option does he have?

He’s walking now, towards where he thinks it might be more populated, but truth be told, he has no clue. He’s probably getting himself more lost, which is not a good idea. He pulls up the map on his phone to try to figure out where he is and if this town has like a “Main Street” or something. He passes a neighborhood watch sign as he walks down a more residential street on his way to what looks like a more major thoroughfare on his phone. He stops to look at it closely because there’s a phone number on the bottom of it.

He has a sudden moment of clarity.

He can call the police to have someone get him and take him home! He knows they don’t do it often, but his dad has told him plenty of times when he was younger that if he was somewhere unfamiliar and lost that he should call the police. His dad made him memorize his address and the police station’s phone number when he was four just in case. It probably helped that his dad would be at the police station working, so if he did run into trouble, he’d be patched through to his dad, but still that’s their job right? Protect and save, and all that?

Stiles dials the number and waits for someone to pick up.

“Hello, Caster Falls Police Department, how may I help you?” It’s a nice older lady’s voice, and Stiles is immediately comforted.

“Yes, hi. Umm, I don’t know where I am? And, I kind of have no way to get home, and I was hoping, maybe you could possibly send someone to get me and give me a ride? I’m kind of freaking out and can’t think of any other option, and there’s no one around.” Stiles hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate, but hopes it is at least a little bit so the lady will take pity on him and tell them she’ll send someone.

“Alright, sir, what’s your name?” Oh god, he sounded too desperate because she’s talking to him like she has to talk him down from the ledge.

“Stiles.”

“Hi, Stiles. I’m Mirabelle. Now, okay, Stiles, can you tell me where you are? Is there a street sign or store nearby?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. He is not five, lady. “Uh, yeah, looks like I’m on the corner of Westover and Bradley?” He sighs. He feels so stupid. He shouldn’t have called. “Wow, I feel really dumb doing this. You know what, I’ll be okay.”

“No, no, just stay there; we’ll send someone to get you.”

“No, it’s alright. I passed a bus stop; I’ll just wait it out. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do. Crime to stop and stuff.”

She snorts. “Honey, we don’t get many calls this time of night, or much crime at all. You’re doing us a favor and giving us something to do. Just hold tight, and I’ve already sent someone over to you. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you till he gets there?”

“Uh, thanks, and no. It’s cool. I’ll just play Candy Crush on my phone or something.”

“Okay, hon. You call if you need something. The officer is about ten minutes out, if he doesn’t get there by then, you call me, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

“You are welcome, sweetie. You have a good night, Stiles.” She hangs up the phone, and Stiles does the same.

He sits on the curb on the corner and waits for his police escort, feeling foolish for having to call them. The longer he sits there, the more he realizes it’s not really a _bad_ area of town, and he was probably safe. But, he does need to get home, and the faster he can do that the better.

True to Mirabelle’s word, a police cruiser slows to a stop in front of him ten minutes later. When the police officer gets out, Stiles resists the urge to let his mouth fall open. He’s not sure what he expected, well no he is. He was expecting someone older, like his dad, a tired, middle-aged cop with a wife and kids to come pick him up and lecture him all the way home about how he should be safer and not be out so late in a strange place.

Instead, the officer standing before him looks like he just came out of a porno movie. He’s young, probably still a little older than Stiles, but definitely younger than the seasoned officer Stiles had been picturing. His uniform fits snuggly, and when he walks over to Stiles, Stiles can see the hint of muscled abs beneath. He’s got dark hair and stubble, and Stiles almost swoons when he offers his hand to help Stiles up.

“You shouldn’t be out this late all alone,” he says, and god, his voice is low and gravelly, and Stiles takes everything back. He was a genius to call the police for a ride.

“That’s why I called you,” he says, and god, he’s flirting and he probably sounds like an idiot. What is he doing??

The officer’s lips quirk up at the corner, and he’s still holding on to Stiles’s hand, and Stiles is still _letting_ him hold his hand. “I’m Officer Hale,” he says, giving Stiles’s hand a shake and letting it fall out of his grasp, which makes Stiles a little sad.

“Stiles,” he says with a smile.

He goes to step down from the curb, but he’s too focused on Officer Hale’s face and his eyes because what color are those even, and he totally trips forward. But instead of falling flat on his face on the pavement, he’s face is landing on something just a little softer, although not much. And that something would be Officer Hale’s chest because yes, Officer Hale swooped in to catch him like the damsel in distress he is.

He laughs nervously and looks up to see Officer Hale smiling down at him. He kind of wants to stay that way because Officer Hale’s arms are warm around his waist and his body feels so good up against his, and oh god, no he should stop. He straightens up quickly and takes a step back.

“Uh, thanks, sorry I’m kind of clumsy,” he mutters as he rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat in his cheeks, and thank god it’s dark and he’s standing in a shadow so the officer can’t see.

“It’s alright,” the officer says with a shrug. He walks past Stiles and brushes his hand against the back of Stiles’s, causing all sort of sparks in Stiles. He strides up to the passenger side door of his police cruiser and opens the door. “Let’s get you home,” he says, a hand out to gesture to the door.

Stiles nods and climbs into the passenger side door, and the officer shuts it behind him. He tries not to watch through the windshield as Officer Hale walks around the front of his car, but he can’t help it. The officer looks a little flush actually, and he seems to be muttering to himself, although Stiles has no clue about what exactly, but it all looks really adorable to Stiles. Hale pauses before he opens the driver side door and runs a hand over his face, squaring his shoulders.

When the door swings open, Stiles tries to pretend he wasn’t staring and reaches for his seat belt over his shoulder, only it doesn’t seem to budge when he pulls it down. It’s while he’s yanking on it, getting really embarrassed that he can’t even pull down his seatbelt, that he hears Officer Hale’s door shut and feels rather than sees the officer lean over. He freezes and looks up and Officer Hale is _right there_ , his face is inches from Stiles’s, and he’s smiling.

“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to tell someone to get that fixed. It gets stuck a lot,” he says as he’s reaching over and above Stiles’s shoulder to pull on the seatbelt. “There’s kind of a trick to it,” he says, and Stiles holds his breath because Officer Hale is so close to him, and he kind of wants to reach out and run his hands up his ribs and feel the muscles in his torso because they are freaking right there in front of him. And his shirt is stretched across him as he leans across Stiles, one hand on the back of Stiles’s seat, the other on the seatbelt.

He finally tugs the seatbelt free and pulls it down, but instead of just handing the buckle to Stiles, so he can buckle himself in, he keeps pulling it down and across Stiles’s lap. It clicks into place, but Officer Hale’s hand is still there near his hip. He hasn’t leaned back in his seat either, his face is still so close, and he’s staring at Stiles so intensely.

Stiles swallows, staring right back, and licks his lips. He doesn’t miss Officer Hale’s eyes flicking down to his mouth when he does. Hale’s eyes flick back up to his own just as quickly though, and his cheeks flush. God, he’s so beautiful. His lips are gorgeous and Stiles really, really wants to kiss him.

“Uh, thanks, Officer Hale,” Stiles manages to squeak out.

“Derek,” Officer Hale blurts.

“What?”

“My name. It’s Derek.” He shifts a little closer, his hand now firmly on Stiles’s waist, and he’s definitely staring at Stiles’s lips now. He even moves his thumb in a small circle against Stiles’s hip, and it’s kind of driving Stiles crazy.

The corners of Stiles’s lips curl up. “Thanks, Derek.” And because Stiles thinks fuck it, let’s go all in because why not, he adds, “Can I show you just how grateful I am?”

Derek’s eyes widen slightly, but he slowly nods his head. Slowly, Stiles leans forward, his palm coming up to rest on the side of Derek’s face. He waits a beat to see if Derek will pull away, but when he doesn’t he closes the space between them and kisses him. Derek’s eyes flutter close on contact, and as the kiss extends, the hand on Stiles’s waist finds its way beneath the hem of Stiles’s shirt.

He parts his lips to lick at Derek’s, and Derek lets out a tiny moan before he opens his mouth to let Stiles’s tongue inside. Derek’s fingers are burning against his skin, and he wants to feel that heat all over him. He slides his fingers into Derek’s hair and pulls gently, which Derek gasps at. He wants to get closer to Derek, but the fucking seatbelt is totally in his way and he needs to not be strapped in.

Just as Stiles is ready to break free of the seat belt so he can climb into Derek’s lap, the radio crackles with sound and a voice comes over the line asking for Officer Hale. Derek rears back and scrambles back to his seat, fumbling for the radio. He answers, but his voice cracks, and Stiles smirks at how flustered he’s made Derek.

“Yes, I’ve got him, Mirabelle. He’s safe.” He looks over at Stiles. “It might take me a while to get back to the station; he lives kind of far.”

Mirabelle’s voice comes through again, but Stiles isn’t paying attention to what she’s saying because he hadn’t told Derek where he lived or Mirabelle for that matter. And Derek saying it’ll be awhile to take Stiles home without knowing how long it will actually take him kind of only means one thing. Holy crap.

Derek says his goodbyes to Mirabelle and then turns off the radio completely.

“Should you really be doing that?” Stiles asks. “What if something happens?”

“Mirabelle is taking care of it, won’t call on me since I’m taking you home.”

“About that… I don’t think I told you my address.”

Derek smirked, “You didn’t.”

“So how do you know how long it’s going to take to get to my house?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Lucky guess.”

“Uh huh,” Stiles says as he rolls his eyes. “Uhh, I hate to tell you this, but it actually really will take a while to get there. I live in Beacon Hills.”

Derek frowns and starts the car, which kind of makes Stiles sad cause he was enjoying their little make-out session. “It’s late; I should get you home.” Derek seems so disappointed, like he’s resigned himself to his fate, that when Stiles said where he lived he was really meaning he didn’t want to keep kissing him or do whatever else with him, possibly in the backseat.

He shoots his hand out to land on top of Derek’s on the gear shaft, stopping him before he can shift gears to drive. “I’m… not in a hurry,” he says, which is a total lie because his dad is totally going to find his bed empty or he’s going to be so tired he’ll probably sleep through his alarm or both and he’ll be in trouble either way.

Derek gives him a small smile, but still puts the car in drive and takes off. Before Stiles can regretfully take his hand away, Derek turns his palm to take Stiles’s hand in his. It’s intimate, and Stiles feels like it’s too intimate given that they just barely met and don’t know anything but each other’s names. But he doesn’t necessarily feel uncomfortable; it’s just overwhelming, like they’ve known each other for years and have been dating just as long. It makes Stiles wish it were true.

“So, Stiles, where do you live, exactly?” Derek asks once they’re on the main highway out of town.

Stiles gives him his address, and Derek nods as he listens but doesn’t ask for more specific directions. They still have a ways before they hit Beacon Hills city limits, so Stiles guesses he’s waiting till they get closer.

Derek continues to drive, never letting go of Stiles’s hand, though it’s loose enough that Stiles could remove his hand if he wanted to, only he doesn’t want to. He asks Stiles questions, the first of which is his age, which Stiles laughs loud at. After reassuring Derek he is totally legal, he tells Derek about his job at the library, how he’s going to the community college until he knows for sure what he wants to do with his life. He still can’t decide what he wants to be when he grows up, has too many dreams to pick just one. Derek smiles easily as Stiles talks, chuckling when Stiles makes a joke, and it warms Stiles’s heart every time he hears it.

He asks Derek questions, mostly cop related, how long he’s been a cop, why he wanted to be on the force, if Caster Falls is as boring as Beacon Hills. Derek easily answers the simple questions, but when Stiles tries to ask him about his family or things outside of his job, he goes quiet or keeps the answers short. Stiles doesn’t push because he kind of really likes Derek and is hoping that their impromptu make-out session wasn’t a one-time thing.

The exit for Beacon Hills is coming up, and Stiles glances at the clock on the dashboard. He’s already too late; his dad is probably home, sitting at the table waiting for him, ready to interrogate him on his whereabouts. Of course, maybe he’ll be a little more forgiving if Stiles arrives in a cop car. Then again, maybe he won’t. Either way, he’s screwed because he’s going to get probably three hours of sleep before he has to show up for work.

And that’s when Stiles decides that he’s already late, what’s another few minutes. He’ll just have a ton of coffee and some energy drinks.

“Uh, take the next exit and turn right,” he says.

Derek obeys and turns right, which actually leads to the preserve of Beacon Hills, not civilization or Stiles’s house. Derek doesn’t seem to notice and continues driving, waiting for Stiles to let him know the next turn.

“Up here, turn left.”

Stiles doesn’t really know where he’s taking them, just making it up as he goes, but Derek turns. It’s not till the road starts getting gravelly that Derek’s eyes slide over to Stiles, his eyes raised in a question.

“You live in a pretty remote area,” he says, slowing down because the road is so uneven and rocky.

Stiles doesn’t answer because the road’s about to end, and Derek’s going to realize this is so not where he lives.

“Pull off over here.”

“Stiles…”

He turns to Derek with a grin. “Pull over and turn off the car.”

“I don’t think—I should really get you home.” But Derek is pulling off to the side and turning the keys to cut the engine.

“I didn’t get to finish thanking you,” Stiles says with a coy smile. He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over the middle console into Derek’s space. Derek still seems hesitant, like he’s remembering his job and how that shouldn’t involve being in a parked car in the woods with a barely legal teenager.

Stiles pouts because even though he is so far into Derek’s space it’s ridiculous, Derek hasn’t budged. Suddenly he feels stupid and embarrassed. “Sorry, we don’t—I thought we had a—I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have told you to drive out here.”

Derek’s eyes soften. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I do.” He gives Stiles a small encouraging smile. “But, I still have another hour drive back to my house, and didn’t you say you have to be to work early? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Stiles ducks his head because geez, Derek is adorable. He barely knows Stiles, and he’s already wanting to make sure he gets to work on time.

“You’re right,” Stiles sighs, resigning himself to the fact that he ain’t getting any action tonight.

Derek turns around and goes back to the main highway, Stiles giving him the right directions to his house.

They pull up to his house, and Stiles almost shouts for joy because his dad’s cruiser is nowhere to be found. He doesn’t want to think about the reason why he’s probably still at work though. He’ll deal with that later. Instead, he decides to make one last effort to entice Derek to sleep with him, even if that means literally sleeping with no hanky panky.

“Do you want to crash here?” he asks, trying to be casual and not get his hopes up. Derek lifts an eyebrow, skeptical. “No funny business, I promise. Cause I am pretty tired and I have to get up in three hours. But, you seem pretty tired too, and I don’t want you to drive home sleepy.”

Derek seems to consider this. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I’ll even offer an air mattress if you want. Although… you seem like a cuddler, which I am totally game for if you want.”

Derek snorts. “I probably shouldn’t try to drive.”

Stiles grins wide because that totally means yes. “Come on.” He climbs out of the car and thinks for a brief moment about making Derek park down the street, but Derek would probably get suspicious of that, and really his dad’s probably going to see it anyway. He’ll deal with his dad in the morning because right now he wants to sleep.

Derek follows him to the door and inside the house. He points out where the bathroom is on the way to his bedroom and tells Derek he’ll find him some sweatpants or something. He sneaks into his dad’s room and steals an old pair of sweats and t-shirt from him that he won’t notice are missing because there is no way he has some that will fit Derek. He grabs a new toothbrush from the stockpile they have from every time they go to the dentist.

He finds Derek sitting on his bed, his shoes kicked off and all his police-issued items lying in a neat pile by his shoes on the floor. He hands the clothes and toothbrush to Derek, and he accepts them before slipping past Stiles to the bathroom.

Stiles changes as quick as he can into his pajamas, ones that are more adult and less dorky, so no Batman ones tonight. He pulls back the covers and fluffs up his pillows and waits for Derek to come back in so he can take his turn. When Derek appears in the doorway, he looks so different out of his uniform, but he still looks gorgeous.

Stiles goes to move past him, but Derek catches him by the wrist to pull him back towards him.

“Thanks,” he says in a whisper before kissing Stiles, a quick chaste kiss. Stiles smiles and gives him another kiss before retreating to the bathroom. He comes back to find Derek already under the covers on his side, his arm tucked under the pillow and his eyes closed, a space next to him for Stiles.

He slips in next to Derek, and when he’s finally under the covers and comfortable, he feels Derek slip his arm around his waist and pull him in closer to him. Stiles is glad he’s facing away from Derek because he knows he’s blushing because he had sort of been kidding about the cuddling thing. Derek is warm against his back and he doesn’t want to move ever. Except that he remembers he hasn’t set his alarm to get up and his phone is on his desk.

Just when he’s about to begrudgingly lift Derek’s arm off of him, Derek’s arm tightens and he can feel his breath against his neck and behind his ear.

“Don’t worry, I set my alarm,” Derek whispers.

“What time?”

“Seven fifteen. That enough time?”

“It’s perfect.” Derek kisses the back of his neck, and Stiles’s heart swells and he wants to say something like, ‘Can I keep you forever?’ but doesn’t.

They both fall asleep quickly, with Stiles entertaining thoughts about eating breakfast with Derek in the morning and finding some way to convince Derek to never leave.

~

However, the morning doesn’t end up as blissful as Stiles’s dreams.

He ends up being fifteen minutes late to the library (but no one is there, so it’s all good) because of an awkward moment and explanation to his father about why a strange man (Derek) was wrapped around his son. (He thinks it went over well because his dad seemed satisfied that Derek willingly gave him his badge number to look up.) Sadly, there was no breakfast (although he did manage to grab some Poptarts and an energy drink from the fridge for he and Derek), but he did get Derek’s number, a promise that Derek would take him out on his next day off, and an amazing goodbye kiss (and an ass grab).

Calling the police may in fact have been the best decision he’s ever made.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it doesn't get explicit and just ends up being super fluffy. I tried but just wasn't feeling it, you know? I don't know I'm in a super fluffy mood. Also apparently in the mood to write things other than what I should be working on. :D
> 
> Come say hi on [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivon).


End file.
